The Plan
by TigressDreamer
Summary: Time for hearts and flowers and Cupid's arrow. Yes, it's that time of year again, Valentine's Day, and for once the serious mayor of Sombreville doesn't feel like the black sheep of his family's flock. Pity that his girlfriend lives a few hundred miles away. (Sequel to The Plant. Rated to be safe.)
1. The Plan

**Disclaimer for the entire story: Sadly, I do not own Strange Magic, although I do have the DVD that I play once a week. All names and places are coincidental.**

**A little late for Valentine's Day but better late than never. Constructive advice is appreciated but please refrain from criticism. Enjoy!**

Bog chuckles as he looks around at his mother's decorations invading his office. Kind of strange that just last year he had yelled about the saccharine eyesores loud enough for the elderly woman to hear on the opposite side of town and now, he doesn't mind them so much. Although, he's quite sure that Maya had added to the invasive species and he's almost afraid what they would have done had Marianne been able to make it.

With a sigh, he returns back to the papers on his desk. He had always hated the holiday of love since middle school and it's ridiculous that he almost felt depressed about not being able to celebrate it with his girlfriend. He couldn't expect her to visit him every holiday, especially since it's not exactly a true holiday.

"You look terrible."

Bog looks up at the doorway but groans in disappointment at the lone figure leaning against the frame. Instead of a petite brunette woman smirking at him as he had hoped, a tall brawny brunette man openly chuckles at the mayor's crestfallen expression.

"What are you doing here, A.C.," Bog questions?

"I've traveled Europe with our dear, hyper, little sister for two months because one of us had to supervise that impetuous group and I think I've earned the right to avoid her for a little while," A.C. comments. "Now, back to my big brother's troubles. Sombreville's mayor shouldn't look so somber. You wouldn't happen to be missing this great amazing woman that I didn't have the pleasure of meeting because of Maya's sorority's brilliant idea, are you?"

"Maybe," Bog sheepishly admits, running his hand through his short black hair. "But it's fine since I'm planning on flying down there next week to spend my vacation with her."

"I don't recall Mom talking about that plan," A.C. mutters.

"Because I haven't told anyone but Marianne since I'm not entirely sure that I'll be able to do it," Bog comments. "You don't exactly have lots of free time when you're a mayor, a good one anyway, and especially not with the other duties I perform."

"I know it's a bit early to ask but are you still going to run for re-election next year," A.C. asks?

"Of course," Bog murmurs. "I love my job and the town likes the way I do it. Besides, Marianne would kill me if I quit."

"You know me so well," Marianne remarks as she pokes her head into the office.

Ignoring A.C.'s riotous laughter, Bog quickly abandons his desk and crosses the room to envelop the petite brunette woman in a hug. He silences Marianne's own chuckles with his lips.

"No smooching in public! The mayor shouldn't break the law," A.C. teases.

"I'm usually the only one that doesn't break the law during Valentine's," Bog comments before turning his attention to the woman in his arms. "You didn't tell me that you were coming today."

"That was the plan," Marianne murmurs.

"Is it your plan or someone else's," Bog questions?

"Did you really think Mom and Dad wouldn't do everything possible to make sure you can spend your hated holiday with your sweetheart? Mom was planning on sending you down there if Marianne couldn't make it up here," A.C. chuckles. "Well, since my chauffeuring duties are done, I'm going to meet Hazel for lunch. Have fun, lovebirds, but remember that Mom and Dad don't want grandkids too suddenly."

"You're enjoying this way too much, little brother," Bog mutters.

Bog shakes his head as the slightly shorter man merely smirks at him before leaving. It would be a lie if he said that he wasn't grateful that his younger siblings were gone for the previous holidays. They could definitely be a handful when they wanted to be.

"A.C. is a lot like Griselda," Marianne comments.

"He's a lot like Mom's brother, Uncle Griswold," Bog corrects. "I'm almost terrified to ask how this all got planned out or about how your trip was."

"How about we talk over lunch? Because I'm famished. I had to get up early to finish three vehicles before my flight," Marianne confesses.

* * *

Marianne laughs as Bog pulls her into an alley just as a snowball hurls past the place where they were walking. His own laughter vibrates against her as she peers out of the alley only to barely miss being hit once more.

"That explains why you said that it might not be safe to walk to the diner," she comments.

"We had perfect snowball-snow fall last night and Valeburg schools were canceled this morning because the water main near the school had broken last night, so Sombreville's park is now a war-zone with ruthless half-pint mercenaries," Bog explains. "To make it worse, I forgot to mention that off-duty officials are worth double and outsiders-in-the-know are worth triple."

"Meaning, you're worth two dollars and I'm worth three dollars for every snowball hit," Marianne murmurs. "We might have trouble making it to the diner alive with so many greedy goblins waiting for us."

"I'm Bog Roi, champion and king of the Great Snowball War, so surviving this massacre won't be too hard," Bog smirks. "I'll let you pick which option we take. One, we take the back alley until we make it to the safe zone. Or two, we use the trash can lids and make a dash for it."

Marianne picks up the offered trash can lid with a smirk and readies herself as Bog readies his own shield. As if Bog really has to ask which one she preferred. She's been excited for the annual snowball war since he had told her about it and was worried that the snow would melt before she managed to see it in action.

Oh, the childhood fun she had missed by not growing up in Sombreville! Even Dawn and Sunny bemoaned their lost chance when she told them about it. A tradition where kids get to throw snowballs at adults and the adults had to pay them for every hit they manage to get. How could that not be the most exciting childhood ever?

Screams of war and laughter echo off the surrounding buildings as snowballs volley out of the snow-covered park and slam against the metal shields as the pair make their way down the sidewalk. More laughter erupts as some of the buildings' occupants open their doors to throw ready-made snowballs at the attackers and squeals ring out from children that are hit. The remaining children make sure the barrage of frosty ammunition doesn't lessen as those hit return to the park's gazebo for a time-out.

Noticing the banded arm on one of the teenagers, Marianne hands her shield to Bog and scoops up a handful of snow and packs it tight as Bog shields her from incoming attacks. The cold missile faithfully hits its target and groans echo through the park as the banded teenager falls dramatically to the ground.

"It's near lunchtime, anyway," Bog consoles. "Gather up your spoils of war and head home."

She watches as the older teenagers lower the smiley-faced flag from the flag post as the adults stationed in the gazebo herd the younger kids out of the park. Several children, including the banded teen, congratulate her for her good throw as they pass by. Several bemoan their defeat even as they offer to return the makeshift shields back to their place.

"They seem very disappointed," Marianne comments as the pair continues walking down the street.

"Everyone tries to break my record each year and this crew came the closest with forty-two snowball wars. Don't feel bad," he chuckles as Marianne winces. "It's the fortunes of war. Besides, they still have a chance to beat the record starting tomorrow. I think we were headed to lunch, correct?"

"Correct," she confirms. "And I was going to tell you all about your parents' plan about me visiting for Valentine's Day."

"As grateful as I am that you came, I know that it can be expensive and I don't want you to think that you have to travel up here so much," Bog comments.

"Dad is the one who paid for the plane ticket this time," Marianne mentions. "He actually has ulterior motives and I'm kind of on a working trip right now."

"Donald has another plan concerning Sombreville and wants you to butter the mayor up, right," he guesses?

"Also correct," she laughs.

* * *

"Griselda already made reservations for a romantic dinner for you two, so just wait until I finish these guys and then I'll take you back," Stuff comments.

"Reservations? I thought that was only for community dinners," Marianne whispers as Stuff leads other diners down the arched hallway.

"Also on Valentine's Day for the romantic section," Bog murmurs. "Apparently, we're not allowed to have a normal lunch today."

Bog grins at Marianne's laughter as they head to the coat check room to hand their belongings to Thang. He had missed being around her. Sure, they talk as often as they can but there is nothing like being next to her in person. He felt selfish for taking her away from her life while he stayed in the comfort of his own town but his job doesn't really permit him to travel and as long as she doesn't mind then it was far better than being unable to see each other at all.

"You're brooding," Marianne accuses softly.

"No...," Bog starts before sighing at her pointed look. "Okay, maybe a little. Absence may make the heart grow fonder but long-distance relationships are kind of frustrating."

"So are no relationships," Thang sighs.

"I thought Stuff forgave you already," Bog comments.

The sandy-blonde-haired man's whine is answer enough and Bog gives a cough to disguise the laughter wanting to burst out. As much as he pitied his friend's dilemma, the situation was hilarious.

"Wait, you mean that you and Stuff aren't dating? Since when," Marianne asks?

"We've never dated and it's all my fault," Thang whines.

"No, he's telling the truth," Bog remarks at her look of disbelief. "Truth is, Thomas Angler Jr was quite the ladies' man in school. He had a few girlfriends, nothing too serious, and Stuff was his best friend since they were in elementary school. A best friend that he thought was a boy."

"It's not that funny," Thang growls as Bog starts laughing. "It's terrible, I know! But it's just that Stuff was one of the boys growing up. She didn't like hanging around the other girls and doing girly-stuff and she never wore anything girly and she only went by Stuff, not Isabella...and..."

Marianne elbows Bog's stomach, stopping his laughter, and he smiles unrepentantly at her glare. Her silent scolding was worthless with the laughter he could see sparkling in her amber eyes.

"He thought that for quite a while until they got stuck with babysitting a chicken-poxed Maya when I graduated from college five years ago," Bog states.

"Tricked! A.C. tricked us into babysitting Maya," Thang interrupts.

"All three of you were twenty-years-old, so it's your own fault for falling for his tricks when you should have known better," Bog remarks. "Anyway, even being chicken-poxed didn't stop fourteen-year-old Maya's hyperness and they had collapsed against each other in exhaustion when she finally went to sleep. That's when someone noticed that Stuff wears perfume and Stuff found out that Thang thought that she was a boy."

"She's been holding it against me ever since," Thang moans. "I said that I was sorry but she won't go out on a date with me because I thought she was a boy. I figured that if I showed her that I was serious then she would forgive me and it's been seven years since my last date but she still hasn't forgiven me."

"Seven years," Marianne repeats? "What happened to being a ladies' man?"

Bog grins wickedly as he takes a quick look outside the door to make sure that Stuff hasn't returned. Far be it from him to keep secrets from his ladylove, even secrets that weren't entirely his. Thang's panicked look only makes the grin grow wider.

"Bog, you promised not to tell anyone," Thang warns!

"I promised not to tell Stuff," Bog corrects before turning to Marianne. "It was after their high school graduation and as is traditional with practically every high school graduation party everywhere, someone smuggled alcohol into a minor's party. I got the job of getting an inebriated Thang home, which was a very enlightening drive from Valeburg because Thang was going on and on about being attracted to his best friend."

"Didn't you say that Thang didn't realize that Stuff was a girl until they were twenty? So, that means...," Marianne starts.

"I was starting to question whether I was gay or bisexual," Thang interrupts lowly, sighing before deciding to confess everything. "I really liked Stuff and we got along so well. Worst of all, I compared all of the girls I dated to Stuff and they never measured up. So I always ended the relationship so I could spend more time with Stuff but then I started dating again because it seemed weird that I...well, that I loved my best friend who was a boy. After high school, I decided not to date anyone until I figured out what I was going to do. I didn't think I was gay because I was still attracted to girls but I didn't know if I was bisexual either because I was only attracted to Stuff, not other boys. But I'd never seen Stuff date anyone, so I didn't know if my advances would be welcoming or would ruin our friendship. Then I messed up when I found out that Stuff was a girl because I asked her out on a date right then and there."

"And you didn't correct him about Stuff being a girl," Marianne growls at Bog!

"I didn't know that he thought Stuff was a boy! I just thought he was having trouble dealing with the part about them being best friends," Bog defends, holding his hands up.

"Have you told Stuff any of this," Marianne questions?

"Of course not! It's bad enough that she's mad because I asked her out when I found out that she was a girl but she'd probably stop talking to me all together if she found out that I loved her when I thought she was a boy," Thang moans.

"Oh, I don't think so," Marianne hums. "In fact, I'm quite sure that this would help."

"Really," Thang asks, his face lighting up?

"Definitely, since then she'll know that you love her for her and not because of what gender she is," Marianne confirms, smirking as Stuff passes by the door. "It won't be that hard since Stuff had me convinced seven weeks ago that you two actually were dating with how she went on about you."

"Marianne! You weren't supposed to tell him," Stuff whines, her face bright red.

* * *

Marianne tries to contain her smugness as she and Bog follow Lizzie toward the partitioned area of the large dining space but it's a lost cause when Thang's joyful laughter rings out through the diner. Playing cupid was a pretty fun job.

She gasps slightly as they pass the opaque glass wall and gazes around in awe. It was like they entered a completely different room and timeframe.

Instead of the bright noonday sun beaming through the skylight roof like the other side of the partition, the area is blanketed in soft darkness created by a gentle glow from the shaded skylight roof on this side of the partition. The yellow lanterns hanging from the ceiling and the lighted white candles adorning each of the wooden tables bring a touch of warmth to the atmosphere while the clusters of pink silk primroses wrapping around each of the room's supporting cherry oak pillars give enchantment.

"How did you manage to create such a scene during the day," Marianne questions in wonder?

"Practice," Lizzie chuckles. "It was a bit harder before those smart glass were created but we still managed to make magic happen. I always felt that simplicity has its own charm and that sometimes less is more. Unlike some people."

"There's nothing wrong with a little decorating," Griselda grumbles as they pass her table.

"They're like this, just ignore them," Bog murmurs, holding out Marianne's chair.

"I've seen your office," Marianne reminds. "For a town with a law against public displays of affection, Sombreville is pretty lovey-dovey."

"You'll find out why we have that law when Foret Lodge opens," Lizzie remarks. "Sombreville residents know how to tone down the lovey-doveyness in public with respect to other people's feelings and to keep young children from questioning about the birds and the bees too early. It's outsiders that we have a problem with, especially the ones that think they can do whatever they please in the woods. We're all for love, even our surly mayor here, but lust has no place where children can see it."

"I'm almost afraid to ask about what happened to cause that law to be created," Marianne mutters.

"We've always had a bit of trouble reminding visitors to respect our preferences to tone down the overt affection in public but it was a few years ago that was the tipping point to actually make it a law instead," Bog explains. "A large group of teenagers were quite...randy the moment they arrived and they had taken a spot down by the lake to camp. I told you about the kid's program that Foret Lodge has and that day A.C. and I were fishing at the lake with some younger kids. We always make sure to use an area without any campers nearby but that apparently wasn't safe enough because one of the kids had gotten bored with fishing and was looking around and saw something that no six-year-old should see. A.C. got the kids out of there while I confronted the amorous couple and they got charged with public indecency."

"Oh, that is bad," Marianne groans. "Surely they had more common sense than to do something like that out in public. It's against the law everywhere, after all. So, why the law of PDA specifically if that's all it was, considering they still got charged?"

"The law happened because of what happened when Uncle Brutus reported the incident to their parents. It was discovered that the sixteen-year-old's parents did not know that he was in a relationship, sexual or otherwise, with the nineteen-year-old and they tried to charge us for allowing it to happen," Bog comments, grinning at Marianne's burst of outrage. "There was a bit of legal battle against Foret Lodge and Sombreville but the court ruled in our favor since we had no way of knowing that the pair was an illegal couple. So, we decided to make that law as a way of preventing something like that from happening again because anyone caught breaking the law has to produce their IDs and any minor caught have their parents informed on them, keeping us legally clean."

"No, not we decided, he decided," Lizzie interjects, nodding her head to Bog. "Bog had petitioned the city council with the law after the court battle was finished. Mayor Lark, unfortunately, thought that Bog's idea was too cruel and that there was nothing that the town could do except keep doing what we've been doing."

"Too cruel? It's just a law prohibiting the display of excessive amounts of affection in public, not a law against love altogether," Marianne remarks. "It's not like you have to show physical affection for your love to be real, anyway."

"Our previous mayor was good but she was a passive person, the sort of passive that if it doesn't bother them then they don't care," Lizzie explains. "A lot of us agreed with Bog's idea because frankly, we were all getting tired of having to tell grown adults to grow up and quit acting like breeding rabbits that couldn't keep their hands in respectable places in public. No amount of debating could get Mrs Lark to agree to do something and when Bog ran for mayor in the next election, there wasn't many that voted for her."

"She was a sore loser, too! Moved out within a few weeks," Loch comments from his table. "It was good riddance because she was a busybody since she moved here."

* * *

"I swear, every time I eat here, the food only gets better," Marianne murmurs.

Bog chuckles as Marianne hums in delight as she takes another bite of the strawberry chocolate mousse cake. A quick look at his watch alerts him to his dwindling lunch hour and he really hates having to leave the enchanting woman across from him.

"Let's see. You've snitched on my scheming relatives, alerting me to Dad calling you three days ago after I informed them that you wouldn't be able to come today, Maya keeping me overly active helping her which left me with less time to talk to you, and A.C. being the one to pick you up at the airport as a way to avoid paying for an unused rental," he comments, counting off on his fingers.

"Don't forget about Griselda's very important role of threatening everybody to leave you alone until I leave," Marianne mentions. "Or did I forget to tell you that Beaker signed you off of work for the rest of the day when we left your office?"

"Yes, yes, you did forget," Bog chuckles, grabbing and kissing her left hand. "And here I was unhappy that we were going to have to interrupt our date so I could go back to work. But didn't you tell me last time you were here that you didn't want me to shirk my duties just because of you being around?"

"You shouldn't shirk your duties," she agrees. "But there's nothing wrong with taking a day or two off, especially since you rarely get any days off between your mayoral duties, your firefighter and volunteer search and rescue duties, and your duties at Foret Lodge. You are an overly busy man."

"Says the mechanic, school teacher, and part-time Father's assistant," he comments.

"I, at least, get some vacation time," Marianne points out.

"And I'm ever grateful for that," Bog remarks. "Now, as I was getting to before you informed me of my surprise half-day of work, you had one more scheming relative to snitch on. What is Donald's motivation for paying for your plane ticket?"

"For starters, he wasn't happy himself when I said that I wouldn't be coming here for Valentine's Day and when he overheard my phone call with Loch, he called the airport to schedule my flight. So, it's not entirely motivated by business reasons," she comments, ignoring his chuckle and finishing off her piece of cake. "However, since I was coming here anyway, we decided to propose the idea now instead of waiting for Dad's next trip through. This way you will have plenty of time to discuss the plan to everyone else and will have an answer by next month."

"We decided," he repeats, taking the last bite of his cake? "Is this Donald's idea or yours?"

"A bit of both, actually," Marianne admits. "Dad and I have been looking into something since I returned home the day after New Year's but I didn't mention it to you because we weren't entirely sure that it would work and I didn't want to get your hopes up. After what happened last week...Oh, Bog, you'll never really know how grateful Dawn and I are for what you did! I'll never be able to thank you enough!"

Bringing the petite hands clutching his hand to his lips, Bog stares into the watery amber eyes beaming gratefully at him. He's been thanked many times for doing his job but it's a completely different feeling when the praise is coming from someone so important to him. It made him feel greater than a king.

He can still remember the terror he felt when Chip had called with the worrying information that Donald was an hour late to a meeting and calling his cell phone had given no information but that it was out of range. Given that it was less than a two hour trip from Valeburg to The Snow Fields and with winter still heavy, it was enough to call the search and rescue unit into action. He had gone with the half towards Valeburg, riddled with guilt that he had not worried about Donald not dropping in to talk to him for a little bit and choking down the fear that he would have to call Marianne with terrible news.

A fear that grew worse when they arrived at the area that Donald's rental had slid off the road and down the embankment. All of his training had flown out the window and he recklessly charged down the steep slope to the vehicle to pry the dented door open to reveal Donald wrapped in a few blankets and reading a book. He had nearly broken down sobbing when the older man commented with confidence that he knew that Bog would show up soon. No lecture on proper procedure could ruin his joy. Or his embarrassment when the rescued man mentioned that he had his blessing to marry his daughter.

There are some things that Marianne doesn't need to know about.

* * *

Marianne grins as she sees a charming blush spread across Bog's lean face. He is just so cute sometimes and so easy to fluster. If he reacts like this to her praise then there is no way that she is going to tell him that her dad has been mentioning about what a good husband he would make for her.

Not that she didn't agree but it is a bit early to discuss such plans...out loud, anyway.

"It's not really thanks to me, not really," Bog murmurs. "Rescue takes a team effort."

"I know what you told me but Dad talked to Loch," she states. "He told him that it was you who insisted that Dad was on the route to Valeburg. That it was you who spotted the place where the car went off of the road and that no one else had noticed it. You were the one who risked your life to make sure that Dad was alive. Loch even told Dad that thanks to your quick thinking they were able to rescue him without waiting longer to check the stability of the embankment."

"More like no thinking," he mutters, scratching the back of his neck with his free hand. "I was so afraid that something might have happened to him since it was so long since the accident that I ignored my training and just reacted. It's a good thing that you had that emergency kit packed for when you guys have to take a Valeburg rental or Donald might have gone into hypothermia by the time we got there. It came too close this time and I'm beginning to worry that the next rental-related accident might actually be a fatality. The new policy we tried to get into place doesn't seem to scare Valeburg enough to fix their rental problems."

"Which brings us back to the plan that Dad and I have. I had started thinking about it when you had come home after that accident on New Year's Eve and I had mentioned it to Dad when I got home. We've got everything planned out but we'll need Sombreville's assistance to make it really work since The Snow Fields is only open half of the year," Marianne explains.

She chuckles sheepishly when Bog gives her a pointed look and a cough. He knew her so well. She couldn't help it. She'd always had a tendency to ramble when she was nervous. She really hoped he like this idea.

"What would you say to a rental company in Sombreville," she questions hesitantly?

"A rental company," Bog repeats?

"I know its a lot of work," Marianne comments. "But with Chip's help, Dad realized that at least sixty percent of visitors to The Snow Fields use Valeburg rentals and more than half of them reported to having vehicle trouble. I'm sure Foret Lodge visitors are probably in the same range and it would definitely save Sombreville a lot of troubl..."

Marianne hums in delight at Bog's method of silencing her. A polite cough from a nearby table reminds them to keep the kiss chaste and she can't help the giggle that breaks free. Bog's own chuckle reverberates against her before he pulls back.

"You're a bad influence," he murmurs.

"I'm an evil influence," she corrects quietly, looking around before leaning closer. "Because I have a plan that involves paying for lunch, going back to your house, and not being seen by anyone again until tomorrow or maybe the day after."

"Best plan yet," Bog smirks, his blue eyes gleaming with mischief.

**Tea Blend.**


	2. Plotting

**Plotting**

**A different time and different place don't stop romantic interludes.**

"Oh! He's so tall!"

"Why are you focusing on his height? Take a look at that figure!"

"I wonder what a man like that is doing here. He must drive one of those elegant cars and I'm quite sure we haven't worked on one of those lately."

"What are you girls talking about? We can hear you over the machinery," Dawn remarks as she pokes her head into the office.

The black-haired triplets grin sheepishly at their youngest boss before directing their attention back to the window. Rose squeals and waves Dawn over.

"You have got to see this hunk of a man," Rose gushes.

"He's gorgeous," Ivy coos!

"This whole city is filled with guys that pass by constantly," Dawn comments, ignoring Marianne's snort. "Why is this one so important?"

"He's been pacing in front of the garage for the past ten minutes. He'd head toward the door before checking his watch and resuming his pacing," Violet explains before sighing. "Oh man, does his butt look good!"

"Hey! I do not pay you to gawk at men," Marianne yells from underneath a Chevrolet Impala! "Get back to work!"

"We're on break, Grease Queen," Rose remarks. "Some people do like to eat at lunchtime, you know."

"You're obviously not eating," Marianne scoffs before cursing as the ratchet slips. "I really wish people wouldn't wait until after another mechanic messes up their vehicle for the hundredth time before coming to us."

"At least they didn't wait for the two hundredth time," Dawn giggles before heading toward the still gawking women. "Boggy! Marianne, you're husband is here!"

The four women laugh as the lanky figure trips over his own two feet. His bright red face alerts them to their overheard conversation and the triplets take a moment to sigh at his bright blue eyes.

"We're not married," Marianne denies!

"An unimportant legal technicality," Dawn remarks.

"Wait! What do you mean Bog is here," Marianne questions, pushing out from underneath the car? "He's not supposed to be here until tomorrow!"

"Well, he's here now," Dawn comments, pushing her head out the open window. "Don't just stand there, Boggy, come on in."

"I'm covered in grease," Marianne groans.

"Better for him to get used to it now then to have a heart attack when you work on cars with a baby on your hip," Violet remarks, laughing as the lanky figure trips again.

* * *

Bog groans in embarrassment as he rights himself, brushing back his short black hair, and smooths down his dark grey fleece jacket and khaki pants. Maybe he should have gone to her house instead of coming here but with her not answering her cell phone, he figured that she was having trouble with a car and had lost track of time. He was clearly right by the sounds of it.

Of course, that's not all he heard since he arrived at The Blacktop Butterfly several minutes ago. Marianne had warned him that the triplets were as bad as his siblings but he just didn't think that it was possible.

Shaking his head and grabbing his suitcase, Bog pushes open the painted door. He grins at the sight of Marianne frantically trying to wipe the grease off of her hands before freezing like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Bog! You're early," Marianne chuckles weakly.

"No, I'm not," Bog denies. "I said that I'd be here the nineteenth."

"It's not the eighteenth? Oh, sh...shoot! I'm so sorry, Bog," Marianne groans, glaring at the silver Impala. "I want to kick you, you stupid piece of metal."

"Considering that the prissy owner will be here in twenty minutes to pick it up, I suggest that you don't," Ivy comments. "It'd take forever to buff out the dent."

"Not to mention, we really don't need a bad review, especially since he's going to flip once he sees the bill," Rose adds.

"It's his own fault that he insisted on having the car done in only two days or, and I quote, 'I'll drag The Blacktop Butterfly through media mud'," Dawn mimics in a deep voice. "You should really charge him for the overtime you did last night."

"It was after hours, so I can't really put it on the books," Marianne murmurs. "That's probably how I forgot what day it is. I'm really sorry, Bog. I planned to pick you up at the airport. I'll pay for the cab fare since it was my fault."

"Actually, the cab driver told me that the fare was on the house when he found out that you and I were dating," Bog admits. "He said that you're the best mechanic in town and that I'd better treat you right."

"Was it a cabbie named Charles Craig," Marianne asks, getting a nod? "Violet put Charles down for a free tune-up when he comes in next."

"Already got it, Grease Queen," Violet hums before crinkling her nose at the grease-covered coveralls. "Maybe you should go get cleaned up and take the rest of the day off. You were scheduled to be off anyway until The Jerk came and we all got muddled."

Bog's blush returns with a vengeance as Marianne strips off the purple coveralls to reveal the purple tank top and black shorts underneath it. It doesn't help that the other four notice his discomfort and grin mischievously. Their grins widen when Marianne pulls him down by his collar for a deep kiss.

"Just give me several minutes to clean up," Marianne murmurs.

* * *

Marianne snorts as she listens to the interrogation coming through grate from the other room as she quickly lathers herself up with soap. Maybe she should have headed home for a shower instead of using the work shower but considering that she could feel the hunger pains now that that monstrosity was finished, she figured that it would be better to take Bog to lunch. She didn't think the triplets would be grilling him, though.

"So, you're the guy," Rose hums. "Marianne has been telling us quite a bit about you. Great work ethic, family type, stable, and attractive."

"Though, if it wasn't for Dawn confirming everything, we might not have believed it all to be true," Ivy comments. "I mean, Marianne has been saying some unbelievable things."

"Marianne wouldn't lie," Bog defends sharpy.

"We don't mean she was lying," Violet amends hastily! "Just exaggerating a little. Like her tale when she came back three days ago. We rarely have snow here, so how could Marianne stop a snowball war singlehandedly five days ago?"

"For starters, Marianne did get into college with a softball scholarship," Bog remarks, causing Marianne to chuckle into the flowing water. "Secondly, the rules of Sombreville's annual snowball war are quite simple. As long as the team leader remains unhit then the war continues no matter how many children have to enter a five-minute time-out but once the team leader is hit then the war ends for the day. Marianne had hit this year's team leader and ended the war."

"How about Marianne calling you the champion of the snowball war," Ivy asks? "That's some praise."

"Champion and king of the Great Snowball War," Bog corrects. "When I was a seventeen, I was selected to be the team leader and that year we had sixty-six snowball wars because I was never hit. The year after, my last year, we had sixty-two snowball wars."

"Marianne did say that those who graduate could no longer stay on the kids' team. Is it also accurate that the money collected is split between all the kids participating," Rose questions, getting a nod? "You have to admit that it sounds kind of farfetched to anyone just hearing stories about how wonderful your town is and how great a guy you are."

"Snow would sound farfetched to you three if it didn't snow here every once in a while," Marianne comments through the grate while drying off. "How about instead of going farther south on your next vacation, you travel north where there's more snowfall?"

"Far too cold," Violet remarks.

"You three think weather where you have to wear long pants or skirts is cold," Dawn chuckles, throwing the buffing rag onto the worktable. "The Impala is all ready, Marianne."

"Good. If he gives you any trouble about bad publicity then tell Mr I'm-an-important-tv-star that I'll gladly send his boss evidence of everything that was wrong," Marianne mentions. "And don't forget to tell him about contacting that cop who wants to talk to him about the stolen tailpipe I found on his precious scrap heap."

"Don't think we're through with you yet, Bog Roi," Violet chimes. "Now about why you have so many jobs."

* * *

"That was interesting," Bog chuckles.

"Again, I'm very sorry. I didn't want you to be subjected to them on your first visit here," Marianne comments. "They can be very intense."

Laughing at the understatement, Bog puts his suitcase in the back seat of Marianne's purple and black Cascada before taking a seat in the passenger seat. He accepts the kiss Marianne leans over to give him before she starts the car and pulls out of the parking lot.

"It doesn't help that they've been acting concerned about me not being so put off with romantic things," she continues. "I've been so anti-lovey-dovey that they clearly think I'm bewitched."

"I can understand that one, except everyone back home is happy for the change in me," he comments. "It's not like we really hated that stuff, entirely anyway, we just didn't have anyone to share it with so it was misery to be reminded of it."

"Exactly! But no matter what Dawn or I say, the triplets are still concerned," Marianne remarks.

"You did tell me that you had a bad track record with guys that you went on dates with, so they're probably worried that I'm not as great a guy as you keep telling everybody," Bog suggests. "But I'm not intimidated by you, nor do I want you to be 'my little woman' who stays at home barefoot and pregnant, and I've definitely got no plans to quit my job to let you support me."

"Don't forget that you're also not dating me as a way to get my dad's money," she adds. "You're probably right about their worries. You do seem too good to be true from everything I've told them but it's not any of their business about the arguments we've had or the troubles we've had in adjusting to each other."

"Can't really call them arguments, just differences of opinions that we decided to agree to disagree," he corrects, kissing her as she stops at a red light. "And as for trouble adjusting to each other, that's kind of normal for everyone no matter what their relationship status is. Speaking of which, Donald does know about us...ahh...sharing a bed, right?"

"Relax," Marianne reassures, snickering at his worried face. "Dad does know but he's not here to care and he won't be back for another few days. He's with a few business friends on an ice fishing trip. As for Dawn, I already gave her a list of rules that if she doesn't abide by them then I get to torment her and Sunny. So, how did everything go when you explained about the plan for a rental company in Sombreville?"

"Everyone is really excited about the idea," Bog comments. "Is it possible for me to bring a draft of the proposal back home? We'd really like a chance to review it and make any changes we think might be needed so as to make the meeting next month go smoother."

"Sure, Dad has several copies and suggested that I give you one before you left," Marianne remarks. "He doesn't want this meeting to go as badly as the last one but I reassured him that it won't since he'll actually listen to what the city council says this time. He knows that there will have to be a few changes to it for it to work."

Bog opens his mouth but closes it as she pulls up to a sidewalk cafe. He quickly exits and rushes to the other side to open Marianne's door, offering his arm after kissing her hand. Maybe he was overdoing it with the gallantry but the charming blush spreading across her petite nose only makes him lean down to kiss it.

He smirks at her protest, especially since she doesn't remove her arm from his.

* * *

"That's a lot of change in just a few days," Marianne remarks.

"Considering that Stuff has been in love with Thang for forever, it's about time," Bog comments. "The only problem will be convincing those two to just wait for at least a few weeks before they get married."

Choking down her laughter so as not to choke on her lunch, Marianne has to concede that he's probably right about that. For all the self-confidence that Stuff portrayed, she was a little worried that Thang's profession of love was just because she was a girl, hence her resistance to his advances. She had wasted no time showing her true feelings once Thang confessed how long he had loved her and Lizzie was forced to give the pair the rest of the day off, not that she really minded.

"So, how did Hazel's ex-boyfriend take her and A.C.'s little ruse," she questions after a moment?

"The idiot really believed that they were so in love and truly dating that he confronted Hazel and accused her of cheating on him before," he scoffs. "A.C., the ever-dramatic, loudly proclaimed to the entire restaurant in Valeburg everything that he had told Hazel when he broke up with her, including admitting to sleeping with other girls for the two years that they were dating, and all the harassment that he's put her through for the past five months. Hazel would have killed A.C. for it but several of the other diners had expressed their own opinions about such behavior and her ex had to leave in quick order. She hasn't heard one thing from him since. They're planning on keeping up the act until they're absolutely sure that he's going to leave her alone."

"You know, when A.C. told me that he was pretend dating Hazel as a way to spite her ex, I have to admit that I was worried. It's a really popular plot in all the romances, after all, one that Dawn swoons over constantly," Marianne comments.

"Except real life is not entirely like a romance plot," Bog points out. "A.C. is very much in love with Lucille and very faithful to her. Also, Lucille is completely for the idea to help Hazel get free from her ex."

"That's what he said when I mentioned my worries to him," she admits. "He said that after what happened to you in middle school, he couldn't bear to let Hazel think she was everything her ex called her. Which I'll take a moment and say how handsome you are and that little girl didn't know a good thing when she saw it."

"Mom showed you my pictures," he reminds.

"So you were really tall for your age and as skinny as a pole, so what! You filled out quite nicely once you got past the growing stage," Marianne purrs before leaning closer. "I've seen what you've been hiding under those clothes, remember?"

She giggles as Bog coughs on his soda and his face turns red. Far be it from her to resist teasing him. He's just too charming and she's missed him so much. Forget that they saw each other just a few days ago, every day without him is nearly too long.

"Don't think your teenage years define your whole life. I actually had braces, was shorter than average, and a bit chubby, plus my hair was really frizzy during my teenage years," she confesses. "I'll be nice and show you my pictures since I've seen yours."

"You better or I'll get Dawn to show me," he threatens before whispering. "By the way, I love where you're still chubby."

* * *

Bog can't resist the smirk surfacing at the blush spreading across Marianne's face. Turnabout is fair play. Although, they might need to tone it down just a little before they get themselves into trouble. After all, they don't have the house to themselves this time.

"I better mention this now or we might not get around to talking about it when we don't have certain people overhearing us," he comments. "A.C. mentioned to Mom and Dad about his plan of possibly moving down here."

"He told me that he was only thinking about it," Marianne groans. "I mean, I will hire him to help him get his certification but I figured I still had a few months before he made a decision."

"The talk about the rental company had gotten A.C. thinking and he had brought up the problem of no professional mechanics in Sombreville," Bog explains. "I had told A.C. to hold off on his plans for a little while because a professional mechanic would need to be brought in to take care of the rentals since all of the Valeburg garages are unreliable."

"Somehow, I don't think just that explanation satisfied them completely," she mutters.

"It didn't because it was obvious that Mom and Dad were thinking about a certain professional mechanic they want in Sombreville. They didn't bring it up but they did express their disappointment when I mentioned that you wouldn't be joining Donald for the meeting next month," he remarks.

"I had the same problem with Dad," Marianne admits with a wince. "He was suspicious that I wasn't coming with him but I told him that it would be a lot easier for me, and you, to wait until Spring Break so we could be together more. I may have bought us some time but I'm not sure how much. As evidenced with Valentine's Day, our loving and scheming relatives will probably come up with something before too long."

"So much for keeping the plan a secret," Bog chuckles. "We might be forced to tell them sooner than we expected. At least we managed to keep it from them since New Year's Day, anyway. Did you talk to the school board about you not renewing your contract?"

"Yep and they even suggested that I could get out of my contract early since my classes end before the end of the school year and my assistant, who is gonna be promoted, can easily finish up everything without me," she answers, grinning as his face lights up at the implication.

"Meaning," he prods?

"Meaning our plans just got speed-up and Sombreville will have a new resident at the end of next month," Marianne purrs.

Bog resists the urge to spin Marianne around in the crowded cafe as he pulls her out of the seat and into his embrace. It almost seemed unreal that they were one step closer. Only one month to go and Marianne will be there beside him when he wakes in the morning. Just a few short, if not very long, four weeks and they can start planning for the rest of their lives.

He leans down to give the chuckling woman a kiss but stops short as her cell phone buzzes with an incoming text and Marianne pulls back to pick it up. His annoyance is only short-lived and a shared look is all that's needed before they quickly gather their things. Little siblings can be helpful sometimes.

_'Stayin Sunny's 2nite. HF, Sis! ;) ;)'_

**Tea Blend.**


End file.
